


The Other Side of the Story

by weakinteraction



Category: Mabinogion (Myth)
Genre: Gen, Trick or Treat - extra treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 01:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5111993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/pseuds/weakinteraction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Pwyll and Havgan, as it might be told in Annwvyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Side of the Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zdenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/gifts).



This is the story of how Annwvyn came once to be ruled by a mortal man, a king in iron armour. I swear to you this story is true, and for my justification I will plead not only my own memory, but that the mortals know this same story themselves. They tell the story to one another in that special way of theirs, back and forth down their fleeting generations. But I remember all of it myself, though I knew nothing at the time.

I was young then, perhaps only in my fifth decade. It began at a Samhain feast, much like this one, though perhaps even more splendid, for back then the forests around Annwvyn stretched much further in all directions, and was well supplied with game, and the trees gave forth their bounty more readily. Arawn was high king of Annwvyn in those days, and I was proud to be one of his huntsmen. Yes, laugh if you must, but I was not always this doddering ancient fool you see before you now, telling tall tales as the fire dwindles. When I rode to Arawn's horn, my horse and I were as one, flying through the forest like the wind shaking the leaves from the trees.

Now, there was a pretender at that time, called Havgan. No true scion of the royal bloodline, but practised in many of the arts, which was enough to win the loyalty of some of the more credulous and cowardly lords of the further realms. Each year, Arawn invited Havgan to his Samhain feast, extending his high king's duty of hospitality even to the man who wished to usurp his throne. And each year, Havgan refused that hospitality, coming only as far as the ford that marked the boundary between the lands he claimed and those which even he could not fail to recognise as owing their allegiance to Arawn. And so Arawn would meet him at the ford, and invite him to come and break bread, and put this dispute behind them. He would even have sat Havgan to his right side, had he come to the table.

Havgan was proud, though, and would always refuse, hoping to goad Arawn into challenging him to a duel. But Arawn was not so foolish, for he knew that Havgan had used many enchantments to ward himself against danger. Chief among these was the enchantment he cast upon his shield so that no weapon could harm him, if it struck him more than once. After he had done this, he ordered his followers to set about him with all their many different weapons. They feared his anger if they did so, but even more so if they disobeyed his instructions. At first, Havgan staggered around under the onslaught of his own men, like a drunkard on his way home, but then, as the enchantment took hold, their blows had no effect, and even the injuries he had already sustained healed themselves. In this way Havgan made himself impervious to all weapons of our devising, and this was why Arawn sought to use diplomacy to impudent claims, and not simply force of arms.

One year, as Arawn made his way back from his meeting at the ford to the feast, the hounds caught the scent of a great stag. That noble creature led us on the greatest hunt I have ever experienced, on the twisted paths from Annwvyn that are only open at those times of the year when the veil between our world and that of the mortals is thinnest, nights like tonight and May Eve. And at the end of the chase, it gave up its life to help Arawn meet the mortal king who would become our king.

Arawn did not know at first quite how far he had come, or whom he had met. But once the mortal man had shown the courtesy Arawn deserved by virtue of his rank, Arawn began to understand where the stag had led him. For the mortal king -- Pwyll, his name was, meaning wisdom in the mortal tongue -- wore armour of iron. And Arawn knew that Havgan had never been struck by iron, for who could have wielded it against him?

Arawn and Pwyll swore an alliance, and Arawn cast glamours so that they could exchange places for a year, and meet once again at that same place that the stag had brought them, when the veil between the worlds was thin once more. And Arawn gave Pwyll strict instructions about how he was to deal with Havgan, when they met at the ford a year hence. For his part, Arawn went to Pwyll's kingdom of Dyfed, and there he ruled justly and wisely, so that the mortals might see how a king should be. And Pwyll, the mortal man in iron armour, but disguised as our king, came here to Annwvyn. And he ruled over us justly, and treated the queen with honour. I knew none of this at the time; none in the kingdom did until Arawn, the true Arawn, returned and told us what had taken place. Even the queen did not suspect the truth, though she must have wondered at the difference between the way the man who was not her husband treated her in the day and in the night. But had he not, the iron he wore underneath Arawn's glamour would have burned her, and all would have been lost. But Arawn had known that he could trust this mortal, and had likewise treated the mortal queen in Dyfed with the greatest respect.

The year passed, a whole year in which Annwvyn all unknowing had a mortal king. And at the next Samhain, Pwyll-who-was-Arawn rode out to the ford. Havgan expected that the same pattern as all the many years past would play out again. But Pwyll struck him, with his armoured fist, in the centre of his shield, and it cracked and Havgan was struck a mortal blow. And Havgan knew at once what had happened, but sought to trick the mortal. He begged for a mercy blow, and Pwyll, king in his own right and regent of Annwvyn, wanted to deliver one, as would be the meet thing to do in such circumstances. But Arawn had told him that he must not strike Havgan again, so he did not. And that was how Havgan died, and how Annwvyn came to be united once more under the throne.

At the Samhain feast, Pwyll in Arawn's stead received the allegiance of those who had sworn fealty to Havgan. Then he rode out to the crossing point between the worlds, where they had first met over the corpse of the stag a year ago. I remember that, too, a harder ride than before, having to find our way instead of being led by that noble beast. When they found each other again, Arawn reversed the glamours he had placed on both of them, and they rode back to their own kingdoms. As we rode, Arawn told us in the hunting party of all that had taken place.

And that is the story of how Annwvyn came to be ruled by a mortal king, and how a king of Annwvyn came to rule over mortals. And in the years to come that mortal king Pwyll followed the example Arawn had set of good kingship, so that the mortals came to know him as Pwyll Pen Annwvyn.


End file.
